


vivid color

by poppyanemone



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Insecurity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pillow Talk, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-26 16:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20933006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyanemone/pseuds/poppyanemone
Summary: you were crimson and gold, and I was born of evergreen.





	vivid color

They had shared a room before then. A bed, the same breath as Iskandar exhaled low and heavy into Waver's chasing lips. It was reminiscent of another time, another place that neither would ever see again, but the past was what brought them together. The present was what tied them again. Thinking more on it would have been far too great a distraction for Waver to manage. His mind was elsewhere, preoccupied by beard prickling his skin, leaving it marred red from friction. It wasn't within him to complain. Years had made him yearn to feel familiar warmth, the comfort that was Iskandar's voice. He knew such pining hadn't been mutual, that the Throne of Heroes wouldn't allow memories from previous wars, but it wasn't necessary for him to have in the same lifetime.

He also thought it might not have been deserved. 

To have a King, for someone that had conquered and held an abundance of power, achieved in less time than he had managed to make a name for himself in the Clock Tower; he thought he wasn't worthy. For his own name to be formed upon lips that had called out another's once upon a time, great men and women that he could never hold a flame —

"What is it you see when you look at me?" 

_Am I good enough?_

The question was abrupt and hung deftly in the air between them. Movements stilled. He worried he ruined the moment. Iskandar said nothing and shifted, slid into the empty space of the bed beside the wall and Waver. It was insecurity drawing to the surface, that uncertainty he knew was heavy and from a place that he thought buried back at nineteen. As his Servant, Iskandar had never made him feel inferior, and as his comrade on the battlefield, **his equal**, the same could have been said. A gruff hum resonated from within Iskander's chest as he stroked his beard, the telltale of a grin upon his lips. It wasn't the first time Waver had asked; it wasn't the last either. Their time wasn't as finite as before years ago. Reassurance didn't have to be rushed upon horseback leading into battle. 

"More than you do I suspect. This nonsense about being enough... You're thinking about that again."

"It isn't — " Waver tried to begin, creating space between them that Iskandar wouldn't allow, quickly drawing the Caster close and dear to his chest. It was unfair how transparent he felt being in his presence. Iskandar could see without having to even look. As if he truly knew Waver in the eleven days that had been spent together in that war and what they had in Chaldea. It must have been an effort to make up for lost time. To understand him better than he could when they were Master and Servant. Even then, there was nothing that he had done that could be seen as worthy. To reach as far as he had, to grasp at the present and hold his own with a spirit dwelling within him, it still did not feel enough.

"Waver." His name. Not Lord El-Melloi II. Zhuge Liang. Caster. _His name._

The voice broke his thoughts, drowning insecurity before it could reach his lips again.

"I ask for nothing. Plundered riches have met me in my days," Iskandar started again, hands venturing up Waver's back, memorizing each rise and fall of his spine. "For you to ask me, Alexander the Great, what do I see? Hmm. Do not insult what I see as the finest treasure that could be held. You are, and have always been, enough."

_"Waver."_

Each and every utterance of his name made his heart heavy, overwhelmed by what he was given. "Rider, I don't..." was said, and it was broken, a high pitched sound that Waver blamed on a wandering hand between his legs, picking up where they had left off. 

"...deserve it?" Sentence was finished for him before it could even reach the tip of his tongue. There was no room for him to protest as a kiss claimed his mouth, a heavy hand, careful with its touch, cupped Waver's chin and guided him close, to meet half way. "You living was all you had to do. Wouldn't you agree you've done that?" 

That mantra: _To live on_. How often had Waver repeated that to himself in the wake of moment's weakness? He had wanted to reach impossible heights and far out of reach distances, but everything was there within his grasp and for the taking and Iskandar was alive and real and there for him. His leg was lifted, guided around Iskandar's waist. It wasn't comfortable, the position, yet Waver cared little. Sweet nothings into the crevasse of his neck, against collarbones as his body was held. A thrust. His breath hitched, a sharp hiss between teeth once Iskandar moved, deeper until no more could be had.

"I want all of you, Waver. Whether you believe me when I say it's enough, that's up to you," the great King whispered, saying things Waver wished he had the courage to speak. He was more reserved in his admittance, affection and what he wanted to say. His insecurities were vocal and overpowered the majority, and at times, he wondered — What if Iskandar didn't say **it** back? What if he had misunderstood these years as something more and had meant more to him? What if he had fallen in love with the idea of Iskandar than the reality? It was a multitude of 'what-if' scenarios. Stupid, stupid thoughts that held no weight in their reasoning. Not when his eyes drifted and met with his lover's gaze, that toothy grin that spoke multitudes and erased every worry.

"I've loved you," Waver managed, arms enveloping a much grander frame, fingers curling into red hair at the back of Iskandar's neck and drawing lips to meet his own. For so long, he had loved without uncertainty, yet believing he deserved an ounce of it in return, doubt never failed to slowly claw to the surface and show itself. Though upon their reunion, how could Waver ever thought any less? To die for another, to live for them; was that not love? By limbs and lips and tongue and teeth, it was when calloused hands grasped tight to thin waist did they part for air, utterance escaping Waver in a clipped gasp: 

_I love you._

He felt himself melt into Iskandar again.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at midnight when inspiration hit. :')  
vague hand gestures - listened to this while writing:  
'smile' by world's end girlfriend  
'black is the color of my true love's hair' by nina simone  
'river was filled with stories' by world's end girlfriend  
'i'll come to thee' by karliene  
'citrus' by holly henry  
'meeting points at 2AM' by dné  
'when the party's over' by billie eilish
> 
> i'm tired so i hope you like it ;;;


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